


Rebel Rebel

by heatrock (thegreenery)



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blink and you'll miss it, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Coffee Shop, Daddy Kink, Dee is smoothTM, Depression mention, Dom/sub, Eating out, Eventual Smut, Fainting, Hand Jobs, He's a switch but not yet, Headaches & Migraines, Healthy dose of angst, Human AU, It Gets Better, Kinda, M/M, Multi, NSFW, Nausea, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attack, Pimp Remus, Pimp Roman, Save Me, Sexual Fantasy mention, Shitty Coworkers, Thomas is a disaster gay, Top!Virgil, another tiny smattering of angst, bottom!Thomas, but it's implied, gross hypocritical boss, i hate that last one, i've given up on serious tags for the moment can you tell, is this a sin, just a little, just for one scene i swear, office party time, patton is a bear and you can pry that from my cold dead hands, probably, remy mention!, this fic is my life now, top!Logan, top!patton
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:01:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22619053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreenery/pseuds/heatrock
Summary: Thomas Sanders, a respectable man in the local community, has no business appearing on Roman Prince’s doorstep. Roman himself isn’t the problem, no, it‘s more about the business that he owns. The transactions that occur within the large mansion he and his employees call home could hardly be called respectable. Thus why it‘s such a surprise to see Thomas there on a sunny Friday afternoon.When Thomas first purchases the services of Roman and Remus Prince, he expects it to be quick, clean, a one-time occurrence. Little does he know that he's about to fall, hard, for the men of the Imagination.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Thomas Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil/Creativity | Roman/Logic | Logan/Morality | Patton/Thomas Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Thomas Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Thomas Sanders, Deceit Sanders/Thomas Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Thomas Sanders, Morality | Patton Sanders/Thomas Sanders, Virgil/Remus/Logan/Patton/Deceit/Thomas, Virgil/Roman/Logan/Patton/Deceit/Thomas
Comments: 127
Kudos: 187





	1. The Imagination

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: implied sex, Remus, Deceit mention, prostitution
> 
> WOW. Uh. Yep. So this idea popped into my head several months ago and I just couldn't let it go. This will be a longer thing, very smut-heavy but also with some plot here and there. I screamed the whole time while writing this. Also, all of them are doing this for fun, not for survival. I thought that was an important distinction. There are, however, sex workers who do this for survival and (no matter why they do what they do) sex workers should be treated fairly, equally, and with respect. I cannot emphasize this enough. RESPECT SEX WORKERS OR DIE BY MY HAND. If anyone has any feedback, please tell me in the comments! I love seeing feedback. Happy reading! <3
> 
> Title from David Bowie’s song of the same name.

“What brings you to The Imagination, Mr. Sanders?” Roman’s voice is smooth, even. He steeples his fingers before his face and smirks at the flustered man before him. Thomas Sanders, a respectable man in the local community, has no business appearing on Roman Prince’s doorstep. Roman himself isn’t the problem, no, it‘s more about the business that he owns. The transactions that occur within the large mansion he and his employees call home could hardly be called respectable. Thus why it‘s such a surprise to see Thomas there on a sunny Friday afternoon. 

“Erm, well...” Thomas begins, eyes flicking everywhere but at the barely-dressed man before him. Roman doesn’t seem to care about subtly, as his loose white shirt is barely held closed by a brown belt around his waist. His pants are sleek but comfortable, a red fabric that looks soft from this distance. Thomas shifts awkwardly in the chair across from Roman’s tall wooden desk. Roman’s heavy gaze lingers on Thomas’ neck and chest before slowly moving down and up again. Thomas stifles a shiver. “I was...intrigued by this place.” He swallows the lump in his throat that forms after Roman’s smirk widens. “Are the stories true?”

Roman chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that raises goosebumps along Thomas’ arms despite his heavy coat. “That depends, Mr. Sanders. Are you willing to pay to find out?” Roman raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow and Thomas’ heart stops at the beauty of it. He barely registers himself nodding, caught under the spell of the outrageously attractive man before him. Roman’s smirk grows into a satisfied grin. “That’s what I like to hear.” Roman snaps his fingers and the side door - which Thomas had previously thought to be a closet - is opened by Roman’s twin brother and business partner, Remus Prince.

The man is dressed similarly to Roman, the only difference being green pants instead of red. Remus grins, the thin mustache above his mouth twitching deviously. Roman clears his throat and Thomas’ attention refocuses on him. Remus keeps his eyes on Thomas even while he listens intently to Roman. “Brother, we appear to have obtained a new client. Who is available today?”

Remus takes only a moment to think. “Dee and V are resting, Pat is...busy,” he smirks, “But Lo’s ready to go if dear Mr. Sanders thinks he can handle him.”

Thomas shivers at his words. He’s heard tales of the men that operate within these walls, the men who enter on a dare and leave with an addiction. He had never expected himself to be among them, but here he is. Thomas shifts under the heavy gaze of the two men and steels himself. Is he willing to do this? Possibly tarnish his reputation for a few hours beneath the sheets with one of the men of the Imagination? When Roman’s smirk deepens into a full, dark grin, Thomas knows he has his answer.

“How much?”


	2. Logan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas visits Lo for the first time and learns a little more about himself and the men of the Imagination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NSFW, slight angst, implied abuse (not by any main characters, and it's very subtle), cursing, self-consciousness

Thomas pauses, knuckles hovering inches from the rich mahogany door. His pockets feel a little lighter after leaving the ground floor office even though all he did was write a check. It’s more the symbolism, he decides. He left something of himself behind in that foyer. Something heavier than a thin piece of paper with his name scrawled next to the outrageous sum of money Roman and Remus had requested. Though, he thinks with a wry smirk, quality usually does cost an outrageous sum. Thomas swallows, adjusts his coat, and knocks three times on the door. 

It’s only a moment before the door is swinging open as if the man inside had been waiting for him. He had to have been, for no man would ever look that put-together unprepared.

The man - Thomas remembers the twins addressing him as Lo - wears finely pressed slacks, a black button-down with the sleeves neatly rolled up to the elbows, and a navy blue tie with stripes across it in lighter shades of blue. He also has a pair of thick-rimmed rectangular glasses which he adjusts as he studies Thomas with shrewd deep blue eyes that match his tie. Lo cocks a thin eyebrow and Thomas realizes he’s been staring.

Thomas quickly swallows the growing lump in his throat and tries his best at a polite smile. “Hi! The twins sent me up. You’re Lo, right? I’m Thomas.” He reaches out with a hand, ready to shake Lo’s if he accepts. Luckily, he does, and Thomas stifles a shudder at the firmness of his grip.

“It is actually Logan.” The man clears his throat. “The others shorten their names to avoid identification, however, I do not see the point. You have already seen my face. At this point in our interaction, any attempt at hiding is pointless and a waste of time.” 

Thomas is speechless for a moment. The way Logan talks is confident, steady, even. He’s totally in control. It’s infuriatingly hot. “I...guess so.” 

Logan nods sharply. His eyes narrow as he looks Thomas over, the man squirming under his heavy gaze. Thomas gets the sensation that Logan is studying him, picking him apart and judging every piece of him. He feels seen, and for some reason, he prays that Logan likes what he sees.

Evidently, he does, for Logan steps back and invites Thomas into his room with a smooth sweep of his arm.

Thomas only hesitates for a second, his mind racing with equal parts of anxiety and excitement. He steps inside and his eyes widen. 

The room is dim, navy blue curtains drawn across windows along the far wall. The only light is a small, silver lamp on the large, dark wood desk in the corner. Papers and books cover nearly every surface in neat piles. Thomas catches sight of a few titles and bites back a smile. Textbooks for everything from astronomy and physics to psychology and anatomy. Logan must have an appreciation for the sciences.

Thomas’ attention is immediately drawn to the only piece of furniture that seems to stand out, a large oak chest at the foot of Logan’s medium sized bed. It seems almost too extravagantly carved to have been chosen by Logan, as the rest of the furniture is simple, so someone else must have put it there. The hair at the base of Thomas’ neck prickles at the implications of that and what might be inside. The sound of the door closing breaks Thomas from his thoughts.

He goes to turn, but firm hands with long, pale fingers steady his shoulders and keep him facing forward. Thomas bites his lip to keep from making any embarrassing noises as Logan slides his hands up Thomas’ chest and starts to slide his coat from his shoulders. 

“I assume that you are here to copulate with me?” And, oh, he has no right sounding so hot when he talks like that. All Thomas can do is nod, his focus taken up by the feeling of Logan’s fingers slowly, achingly slowly, trailing down his arms. Finally, his coat is removed and laid neatly on the desk chair, leaving Thomas in just a t-shirt and jeans. Before he can lament the loss of Logan’s touch, the man returns to his place behind Thomas. His chest presses against Thomas’ back, warm and steady and grounding. His long fingers - pianist’s fingers, Thomas thinks numbly - wrap around Thomas’ sides and pull him closer until their bodies are almost suffocatingly close.

Thomas closes his eyes, letting himself fade into the warmth of Logan. He’s caught off guard when a pair of impossibly soft lips brush against the corner of his jaw.

Thomas’ eyes fly open, his lips parting with a soft, surprised gasp. Logan doesn’t pause, trailing his mouth up to Thomas’ ear while his thumbs rub slow circles into his sides. Thomas swallows a moan when he feels Logan’s tongue against his neck, trailing lines from his ear down to his shoulder. Then, Logan fits his lips around Thomas’ pulse point and, oh, that feels good. Heavy warmth begins to coil in Thomas’ gut mixed with slight embarrassment at how much this affects him. Logan sucks, just a little, on Thomas’ pulse point and he can’t hold back his moan if he tried.

“You can make as much noise as you want, Thomas.” Logan rumbles against Thomas’ neck. “All of our rooms are soundproofed for that express purpose.” He knows that fact shouldn’t be as hot as it is, but Thomas finds the heat building anyway. Logan sucks on his neck again, teeth barely grazing the smooth skin, and Thomas lets out the moans that he’s been holding back. Logan hums appreciatively which only encourages him to make more noises.

After what feels like years but could only be a minute at most, Logan’s fingers slip underneath Thomas’ shirt and lift it over his head. Thomas shivers at the sudden chill, but is quickly warmed by Logan’s body heat as he presses closer to his bare back. Logan’s fingers return to his sides but move this time, trailing patterns over his stomach and chest. Thomas leans against Logan, too lost in pleasurable heat to bother about propriety. It takes him a moment to realize Logan had asked him a question.

“Hm?”

Logan snorts, the sound loud next to Thomas’ ear. “I asked if you had a preference for how we perform intercourse.” 

The formal words are slow to filter through Thomas’ lust-addled brain. “Oh.” Does he have a preference? Usually, no, but the way Logan is taking control...it does something to Thomas. “I would rather bottom, if you don’t mind.” Logan stiffens, surprised, but Thomas is too numb to think too hard about that right now. He’s even more distracted when Logan presses soft but firm kisses to his naked shoulders and gently pushes him towards the bed on the other side of the room.

Thomas obeys, walking toward the navy comforter-covered bed slowly as not to dislodge Logan’s grip. He sits at Logan’s insistence and can’t hold back a whine when his source of warmth steps away. Logan’s answering chuckle sends a shiver up his spine.

“Needy, hm?” Thomas swallows at Logan’s tone, eyes wide. He’s never gotten so...submissive before. But the way Logan touches him, looks at him, speaks to him has his body begging to be controlled and ordered around. 

Thomas watches eagerly as Logan loosens his own tie and drops it to the ground, then slips out of his shirt and folds it neatly before setting it on the dresser next to him and laying the tie on top. Thomas traces the planes of Logan’s stomach with his eyes, then his hands once he comes close enough. Logan lets him explore his skin while he runs his fingers through Thomas’ thick, brown hair. Logan tugs experimentally and Thomas moans, eyes slipping shut and fingers stilling on Logan’s skin.

“Lay back. Let me take care of you.” Logan’s voice is low, almost a growl next to Thomas’ ear. All he can do is nod and scoot back against the pillows at the head of the bed, waiting patiently for whatever awaits him. 

Luckily, he doesn’t have to wait long as Logan crawls up the bed and settles between Thomas’ legs. His long fingers - that Thomas suddenly realizes will feel amazing in certain places - hook underneath the hem of Thomas’ pants and slowly tug them down until Thomas lays underneath him in only his boxers. Thomas, eyes still closed, shivers. 

“Logan-” The man’s hands pause on Thomas’ hips.

“Yes?”

“Please, I want you to touch me?” Thomas’ voice is high, breathy, desperate. His cock strains against his boxers, Logan’s slow pace wrecking him more than any partner he’d had before. He shivers again at the low chuckle that is quickly becoming his favorite sound.

“I said that I would take care of you, did I not?” Thomas’ breath hitches in his chest as he nods. He doesn’t dare open his eyes, scared he might cum on the spot if he meets Logan’s eyes. “Relax.” Thomas mindlessly obeys, sinking into the pillows as he feels Logan’s hands begin to knead into his hips. A low sigh leaves his lips when Logan’s hands move to his thighs, lifting them up into the air. Thomas keeps his muscles as loose as possible as Logan lifts his knees over his shoulders, crossing his ankles behind his head. Thomas tries not to think about the fact that Logan’s face is practically trapped between his thighs until he’s forcibly reminded by the feeling of Logan’s hot mouth on the inside of one of his thighs. 

“Oh-!” Thomas gasps, surprised. Logan takes this as encouragement and kisses further up Thomas’ thigh, kissing and licking and biting a trail towards where Thomas needs him most. Suddenly, Logan’s mouth is gone and Thomas is swallowing more gasps as he feels his boxers being pulled off. Logan’s lips return to his thighs, but they don’t move towards his aching cock. No, Logan lifts Thomas higher and kisses around to his back. When Thomas realizes what he’s going to do, he cries out in anticipation.

He cries out again - a high pitched moan - when he feels something warm and wet circling his hole. Logan’s tongue, his mind helpfully supplies. Thomas reaches up, grasping Logan’s hair tightly as he feels his tongue slowly breach the ring of muscle at his back. Logan stretches him with his mouth, pushing in and pulling out in a way that shoots flames of pleasure across Thomas’ skin. 

He curses with each movement, the feeling of Logan eating him out unlike anything he’s ever experienced. Logan knows all the places to push against, knows all the times to curl his tongue to make Thomas shudder. He vaguely entertains the thought of fucking himself back on Logan’s tongue, but the tight, almost bruising grip on his hips warns him against it. He’s comfortable enough like this, he decides, content until one of those long, thin fingers slowly pushes inside next to the tongue he is growing addicted to.

Thomas groans, gasping for air and mumbling nonsense words. The burn of being stretched fills Thomas with heat that’s only fueled by the feeling of Logan inside of him, massaging his prostate with every thrust. A second finger is added, then a third, and Thomas is beginning to wonder in a hazy fog of pleasure how big Logan is. He doesn’t have to wait long to know.

Once three fingers and his tongue fit comfortably inside of Thomas, Logan pulls away with a low hum. Thomas whines at the loss of contact, opening his eyes to the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

Logan sits between his legs - both now lowered to the bed - looking absolutely wrecked. Hair mussed from Thomas’ tugging, lips swollen and red, and eyes dark with lust. Thomas barely holds back a moan just from that. Maintaining eye contact, Logan sits up on his knees to pull his own pants and boxers down in one movement. 

Thomas’ eyes go wide. 

“Having second thoughts?” Logan’s voice is low, sultry, but Thomas can’t help but detect a bit of nervousness. He quickly shakes his head.

“N-no, not at all. I…” Thomas takes a deep breath and meets Logan’s eyes. “I need you inside me, Logan. Please?” The other man’s eyes widen just a little, surprised again. He only hesitates for a second before he’s leaning over the edge of the bed and picking up several items from the floor; a bottle of lube and a condom large enough to fit his considerably sized cock.

Quickly, expertly, Logan rolls the condom onto his cock while Thomas watches, entranced. The man dribbles the lube across his fingers then wraps his hand around his own cock, eyes shutting tightly as he groans and jerks himself off. Thomas can only watch, too distracted by the sight to do anything about his own arousal. Finally, Logan’s focus returns to Thomas and he drops his hand to Thomas’ waist. He pushes his hips down into the bed with one hand and guides himself to Thomas’ hole with the other.

The head of Logan’s cock barely touches Thomas’ rim and both men moan softly. Logan pushes a bit more and Thomas can feel his cock slipping inside, deeper and deeper until the pleasurable stretch borders on painful once again. Logan sinks in until his hips are flush with Thomas’ and waits for the man underneath him to adjust to his size. After just a moment, Thomas whines and shifts. Logan needs to move or he is going to lose it.

Luckily, Logan takes the hint and starts to pull out achingly slowly until just the head remains between Thomas’ cheeks. Before Thomas can catch his breath, Logan slams inside and rips a loud groan from Thomas’ throat.

It only takes a couple of thrusts for the heat inside of Thomas to spill over. He grips onto Logan’s sheets with white knuckles and practically screams his name as he cums, releasing over his own stomach and chest. Logan, also close, thrusts a few more times before his hips stutter and he fills the condom inside of Thomas, who is basking in the burning glow of orgasm and oversensitivity.

Logan pulls out and collapses next to Thomas on the bed, both men gasping and exhausted. Weakly, Thomas lifts a hand to brush the sweat-soaked black hair from Logan’s forehead. The man glances up at him, surprised once more. Thomas only smiles.

“That was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

Logan blushes and looks away. “I sincerely hope that you are satisfied with your purchase.”

Thomas frowns. “Of course I am.” He suddenly remembers the nervousness, the surprise. “Logan?”

The man glances up again, eyebrow cocked suspiciously. “Thomas.”

“Do you ever top?” The silence hangs thick, suffocating them along with the heat from their fading pleasure. Distantly, Thomas recognizes the beginning of soreness down between his legs. He dismisses it for the moment. The pain of tomorrow will be worth it.

“I…” Logan stares up at his ceiling. “The short, honest answer would be no. Do not ask why,” He adds, “I am certain that you can deduce the answer.”

Thomas’ frown deepens. “But I don’t understand. That was...amazing. I love how you took control like that.” Logan’s blush deepens and he bites at his lip. “Seriously. I’ve never had sex like that before.”

Logan sits up with a sigh. “That is what we market. An experience like no other.” He turns back to Thomas, eyes narrowed. “Do not misunderstand, I greatly enjoy my work here. I would not trade my...my family for the world.” Logan looks away again, eyes distant. “Some clients are just preferable, I suppose.”

“Yea,” Thomas mutters, “I can see that.” Logan’s only response is a nod. Thomas opens his mouth to speak again, but the rapidly cooling cum on his stomach and chest makes him cringe. Logan notices, standing with a smirk.

“Just lay back, let me take care of you.” Logan gives him a wink that feels much more genuine than it might have before. Thomas can only smile in return, body and mind equally exhausted. He resigns himself to being taken care of, unaware that this will not be the last time.

And this will not be his last trip to the Imagination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might have noticed that this chapter was maybe slightly longer than the first. Oopsie! I got carried away. Plus, it kind of makes up for the shortness of the first chapter. Hopefully. Anyways, leave feedback in the comments and thanks so much for reading!!


	3. A Latte Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas realizes the extent of his disaster gay status.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: cursing, minor embarrassment

Thomas can’t stop thinking about Logan.

The blue-eyed man has infiltrated his every waking thought as well as his dreams. Almost every morning over the past week, Thomas has woken up half-hard after another heart-stopping night with Logan that turns out to just be his fantasies. He’s entertained the thought of going back to the Imagination, but he isn’t quite that desperate.

Not yet, anyway.

Now, Thomas stands in line at a coffee shop his friend Remy had dubbed ‘the goth Starbies of your dreams’ and immediately requested Thomas visit on his way to work. Knowing Remy’s suggestions were always worth the time, Thomas had done just that.

The coffee shop is dim, lit by neon signs and the laptop screens of the multitude of college students working furiously at small, circular tables and plush purple couches. The patron in front of Thomas moves to the other end of the long, black marble counter to wait for their order and Thomas steps forward, his order on his lips, when his brain shorts out.

Behind the counter is the most beautiful man Thomas has ever seen. 

Logan was hot. Logan was intimidating, sexy. Blunt and clear in his intentions.

This man is something else. Purple bangs swoop over his mismatched brown and green eyes that sparkle in the neon lights. His skin is dark, smooth, and contrasts with the pale pink of his lips that are curled into a smirk. He is beautiful, even as a glint of something dangerous in his eyes sends a bolt of apprehension through Thomas’ body. That gorgeous mouth moves and Thomas realizes the barista had been speaking.

“Uh, what?”

The man snorts, and it’s suddenly tied with Logan’s low chuckle as the most beautiful sound in the world. “I said, ‘See something you like?’”

“Uh…” Thomas’ brain shorts out again and he curses his inability to speak to attractive men. “Y-yea, I, uh…” He clears his throat and rattles off his order, luckily able to hold onto his sanity long enough to do that and pay for it. The barista nods and winks as he moves to make Thomas’ drink. As Thomas steps to the other end of the counter to wait, he has to lean against it to keep from collapsing. 

What the hell is wrong with him? First Logan, now this random barista? He’d never fallen for people so quickly before. Maybe it was age or something. Was this a midlife crisis?

The barista returns, that damned smirk pulling at his lips, and hands Thomas his drink. Their hands brush for barely a second, but it’s enough to send Thomas’ pulse ratcheting up to a dangerous speed. He gulps as he pulls his hand back.

“Thank you, er…” Thomas glances down at the name and pronoun badge pinned to the barista’s apron. “Virgil.” Virgil. Oh, what a name. Thomas nearly shudders at the feel of it passing his lips.

Virgil winks again and Thomas thinks he might combust on the spot. “You’re welcome, Thomas.” The sound of his own name in Virgil’s deep, gravelly voice is orgasmic. “Have a nice day.” Virgil moves back to the front of the counter to take the next customer’s order and Thomas is left in shock. 

He is way too gay for this shit.

\---

Thoughts of Virgil and Logan keep him going throughout his day at work until it’s time to go home and Thomas finds himself driving to the Prince twins' mansion instead. His blood is singing and his body is aching. He needs Logan, and he doesn’t care about his reputation anymore if it means he can see him, be with him again.

Soon, Thomas is once again seated in that office with Roman Prince’s eyes committing his body to memory. He barely hears himself say, “Is Logan available?” with his voice steadier than he expected it would be.

Roman’s smirk turns dark. “I am so sorry,” Thomas gets the sense that he decidedly is not, “Lo isn’t in right now. Remus?” Roman snaps his fingers and once more, his twin is leering at Thomas from the side room. “Who is available tonight?”

Remus, once again, doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Only V. Everyone else is…” His grin grows, “Tired.”

Roman rolls his eyes at his brother’s antics. “Well?”

Well. Thomas thinks about it. He had been excited to see Logan again, but really he just needs the touch of someone else. Before Logan, he hadn’t had a partner in...longer than he’d like to admit. He finds himself nodding before he can hesitate any longer.

Roman’s sharp canines peek out from his lustful grin. “Perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wonder who V is...
> 
> WE HIT 2K TOTAL HITS OMG YALL IM SCREAMING THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! When I first posted Clover on my main account, I had no clue people would enjoy my work this much. I'm so happy rn I can barely words anymore. Just, thank you all and I LOVE YOU!!! 
> 
> ALSO: A note about how this fic works; every odd number chapter will be shorter and SFW (mostly) while every even number chapter will be longer and NSFW. Updates will continue to be sporadic as I deal with life and writer's block but they WILL come. Eventually.
> 
> Again, THANK YOU FOR THE SUPPORT!! Your comments and kudos mean the world to me. <3 Happy reading!!


	4. Virgil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas meets V for the first time. Well, not the first time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: nervousness, embarrassment, cursing

Thomas finds he’s starting to get used to the process of buying the services of the Imagination. He’s not quite sure how he feels about that. He makes enough to cover the purchases, and word hasn’t spread quite as fast as he thought it would, but he’d found himself increasingly distracted over the previous week. Thomas decides to think more on this later as he stops in front of another dark door in the same hallway Logan’s room had been. 

Thomas glances at that door but stops himself from imagining what might be behind it. Logan isn’t available and he is going to stuff down his disappointment. Sure, he could have come back another day, but if Thomas is honest with himself...he really is desperate at this point.

He knocks on the door to V’s room, which opens to a sight that makes Thomas want to either die or burst into tears.

He recognizes V.

The swooping purple bangs, the mismatched eyes with just a hint of something dangerous. 

It’s Virgil. And by the way those mismatched eyes narrow, he recognizes Thomas, too.

“What the hell?” Virgil’s eyes narrow further. “Did you follow me?”

“No!” Thomas’ hands come up, palms out, instinctively proclaiming his innocence. “N-no! I swear, I didn’t. This is a coincidence. I...I actually came to see Logan, but he was busy, so the twins sent me to you. If you would rather not...do this, then I completely understand and I’ll leave. I see how this could be weird, and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Virgil is silent for a moment, and Thomas takes the opportunity to actually look at him.

His black uniform apron is gone, replaced by a black hoodie with purple patches sewn on. He wears a light purple t-shirt over black jeans, both with many rips that do well to show the dark skin underneath. His nails are painted black, ends chipped and bitten. He wears dark eyeshadow under his eyes that compliments the emo look. Thomas hadn’t noticed the eyeshadow earlier, so he must have put it on after his shift. Finally, Virgil speaks again, the gravel of his voice making goosebumps rise on Thomas’ arms.

“No, it’s...it’s fine. I just…” Virgil sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t like people knowing about...this.” He gestures around him with a grimace. “Not that I’m ashamed or anything, it just makes getting a second job...difficult.”

Thomas nods. “Yea, I get that.” He rocks a little on his feet, nerves turning his stomach. “I won’t say anything. Even if we don’t do anything tonight or ever, I won’t tell anyone about this.”

Virgil meets his eyes, expression full of equal parts disbelief and hope. “Yea?”

“Yea.” Thomas grins, holding up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

Virgil’s mouth pulls up in a crooked grin even as he rolls his eyes. He snorts. “Yea, ok. I guess…” Virgil tugs at one of his hoodie strings almost absentmindedly. “I guess this could work.”

Thomas’ eyes widen. “You’re sure? Again, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, I-”

Virgil holds up a hand to stop Thomas’ rambling. “First thing you should know about me is I hate being treated like I’m something breakable.” Virgil’s eyes are hard, serious. Thomas swallows, his mouth suddenly dry. “If I said I’m ok, then I’m ok. Got it?”

Thomas nods. He’s beginning to see a pattern with how the men of the Imagination operate. He’s not so sure he hates being ordered around.

“Good. Next, I don’t do anal on the first night.” Thomas chokes on air. Virgil only rolls his eyes. “It’s hands or mouths only, though I can be persuaded into grinding if you try hard enough.” He winks, and Thomas forgets how to breathe again. “Sound good with you?”

Thomas nods again. He tries to speak, but only a squeaking sound comes out. He clears his throat while Virgil snorts, and still his voice is weak as he says, “Peachy.”

That damn crooked smirk returns as Virgil steps back enough for Thomas to enter the room. “Cool. Come on in.”

Thomas steps inside, and he’s not surprised by what he finds.

The walls are black and covered in band posters. Deep violet curtains hang on one wall next to a smaller bed than Logan’s, the comforter thick and a deep grey color. Thomas takes note of the few other things in the room; a dresser, a bookshelf filled with records, a purple record player on top of said bookshelf, and a speaker next to the bookshelf. The record currently in the machine is Evanescence, and Thomas can’t say he’s surprised.

Virgil closes the door once Thomas is inside the room. “So.” Thomas turns to see Virgil leaning against the door, hands in the pocket of his hoodie. He peers up at Thomas through his hair and even though Thomas is at least five inches taller than him, Virgil’s heated gaze makes him feel small. Thomas shivers and can only watch as Virgil pushes off the door and slowly walks towards him. “Which is it?”

Thomas’ brain has to restart. “W-what?”

Virgil rolls his eyes with a smirk. “Hands or mouths?”

Thomas considers his options. “Why not both?” Another snort rewards him. Virgil raises a hand to tuck Thomas’ hair behind his ear, the side of his palm lingering on his jaw. He tilts Thomas’ face down with a thumb on his chin.

“I like how you think, Thomas.” And, oh, Virgil saying his name is even greater than the first time. Because this time, it’s more of a growl. This time, it means more. This time, Thomas allows himself to shudder, a small whimper parting his lips. Before he can prepare himself, Virgil is kissing him and all rational thought disappears.

Virgil tastes like smoke and dark chocolate. Like coffee, bitter and sharp but addictive. His lips are chapped, a rough texture that fits the roughness of his touch. One of his calloused hands remains on Thomas’ chin and keeps it tilted down where he can kiss him with ease. The other wraps around Thomas’ waist and pulls him closer until their chests are touching. Thomas circles his arms around Virgil’s neck, his fingers tangling in the softness of his hair.

All too soon, Virgil is guiding Thomas backwards until the backs of his knees hit Virgil’s bed. As Thomas sits at Virgil’s insistence, the shorter man pulls back from their kiss with a dark smirk. Thomas shudders and can only watch as Virgil drops to his knees on the floor before Thomas. Two long-fingered hands reach up and tug Thomas’ pants and boxers down until they’re on the ground around his ankles. Thomas shudders, his pulse quickening at the feeling of Virgil’s hot breath on his inner thigh.

Thomas is unable to hold back his whine when Virgil’s hot, wet tongue is trailing a path up towards the apex of his legs. Pale fingers fist in purple sheets when Virgil places little, innocent kitten licks over the head of Thomas’ aching cock. A glint of something dangerous in Virgil’s eyes is all the warning he gets before Virgil takes Thomas completely into his mouth, ripping a shaky groan from Thomas’ chest. Maintaining eye contact, Virgil begins to bob his head. He hollows his cheeks, applying pressure to the underside of Thomas’ cock with his long, wet tongue. Virgil pulls back until only the head is in his mouth and he sucks gently while wrapping one of his hands around the base. Thomas groans again, barely avoiding fucking into Virgil’s hot, tight mouth.

Licking at the tip, Virgil pulls back completely with a grin. “Just so you know,” his already-gravelly voice is even rougher, “I don’t have a gag reflex.” He winks and takes Thomas back into his mouth. It only takes a couple of pumps from Virgil’s hand for Thomas’ resolve to weaken and his hips to stutter forward, the tip of his cock pressing farther into Virgil’s tight throat. As promised, the man doesn’t cough or hesitate, his throat relaxing around Thomas’ length to take him even deeper. 

Virgil’s hand twists in time with his tongue, coaxing wrecked moans from Thomas’ lips. After what feels like eternity and only a few seconds, Thomas is cumming down Virgil’s throat. He watches in a haze of pleasure as the man dutifully swallows every last drop, even licking around his softening cock to clean him entirely. He pulls off with a pop and a grin, the brightness in his mismatched eyes warming Thomas’ cheeks.

“So, how was that?” Virgil’s voice sounds incredibly wrecked and Thomas can feel his cock twitch with interest. He takes a breath and stretches his fingers, already cramping slightly from how tightly they were gripping Virgil’s sheets.

“Amazing.” At Virgil’s snort, Thomas continues. “I mean it. That was...wow.”

Virgil rolls his eyes, wiping a drop of cum and spit from the corner of his mouth with his sleeve. “Yea, sure. Whatever.” He stands and moves as if to walk away, but Thomas reaches out a hand to wrap around his wrist. Virgil pauses, glancing down at Thomas in surprise.

“Wait. Don’t-don’t go.” Thomas speaks without thinking, quickly turning away and dropping Virgil’s wrist. “I...If you want to, I would like to...repay you, somehow? I just...you made me feel so good, and I want to make you feel good, too.” Thomas risks a glance up at Virgil’s face, and the amusement and - barely hidden - relief he finds there makes him blush harder.

“Thomas, you really don’t have to, I-”

“I know, Virgil.” Thomas takes Virgil’s hand again, but intertwines their fingers this time. The solid, heavy weight of Virgil’s hand in his sparks something in his chest that he hasn’t felt in a very long time - or, if he's being honest with himself, a week - “If you really don’t want to, I’ll leave. But I truly want to...erm...help you out.” Thomas gestures vaguely towards the tent in Virgil’s skinny jeans, barely hidden by his hoodie.

Virgil snorts, more disbelief than amusement soaking into his tone. “If you’re sure,” Thomas nods eagerly, “then I guess that’d be ok. Just don’t think you owe me, ok?” Thomas nods again, too excited to respond with words.

They quickly switch positions, Thomas now on his knees before Virgil, and the sight of the dark-eyed man looming above him like this is enough to take Thomas’ breath away. He reflects again on how absolutely beautiful Virgil is, how lucky he is that he decided to do this after all.

Yes, Thomas is very lucky indeed.

Unfortunately for him, that luck will soon run out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's who V was! Who would've guessed? Not me. ;) 
> 
> Anyways, THANK YOU to everyone who has read, left kudos on, and commented on this fic. It really means a heckin' lot to me. I love you all SO MUCH!!
> 
> Remember to leave feedback, cowards. I'll see you all next chapter when shit goes down. ;)


	5. One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas has multiple realizations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: cursing, description of a panic attack at the end, ghosting/abandonment

Two weeks pass in a rush of blue and purple. Thomas continues to return to the Imagination, for Logan and Virgil alike, but has yet to request any of the others. He has found himself growing closer to Logan and Virgil - emotionally as well as physically - and sometimes visits the pair just to talk or hang out. They haven’t yet done anything sexual with the three of them - although Thomas is reminded repeatedly that it is an option - but Thomas still enjoys the hours they spend stargazing or watching cartoons or just cuddling. 

How the relationship between them and Thomas changed from customer and producer to friends - or something more - Thomas will never know. If asked, he will say it just happened and none of them thought to stop it.

One day, laying on Logan’s bare chest while the man mouths lazily at his throat, Thomas is struck by a realization. One that has his nerves shot and his eyes widening. One that prompts Logan to ask him what’s wrong, and one that encourages him to lie and say that he's just tired. One that changes everything.

Thomas is falling in love with Logan and Virgil, and there’s nothing he can do to stop it.

\---

A month later, Thomas is no closer to figuring out a way to make these feelings disappear. If anything, they’ve grown. Thomas sits at his cubicle at work, idly typing away while his mind strays to thoughts of the men he loves. A hand waving in front of his face steals him from his reverie and he jumps, startled.

“Earth to Thomas!” His best friend, Joan, chuckles as they pull their hand back. “Hey there, you feeling alright?”

Thomas laughs nervously and scratches the back of his neck, trying not to think about the dark collar of hickies just underneath his shirt that Virgil had so lovingly left the night before. “Yea! I’m good. How are you, buddy?”

“I’m good!” Joan sways a bit on their feet and Thomas watches as a piece of dark hair escapes from their trademark orange beanie. They lift a hand to tuck the piece back in. “Are you...really ok, though?” At Thomas’ furrowed brows, they continue. “I mean...ok, so, no judgment zone here, but there’s been some...rumors going around that you, uh, visited the Imagination? A few times? And - again, no judgment zone, I just wanted to make sure you were, you know, cool.”

Thomas is frozen for a moment. 

If he doesn’t come up with some way to evade suspicions, then he could very well be fired. It wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened to someone in his office, the higher-ups citing ‘decreased work ethic’ as the reason for letting the poor sap go. He has to play this carefully, even more so because Joan can see right through him.

“Whaaaaaat? No way. The Imagination? Not me. Pfft.” Thomas tries his best to sound innocent, but he and Joan both know he’s shit at lying. Joan only sighs and rubs their temples.

“Just...be careful, ok?” They lean down a little, eyes tired with worry. “I don’t want to see you let go. You’re a good man, Thomas.”

Thomas swallows the bundle of writhing, confusing emotions that threatens to push past his lips and expose itself. He forces a smile. “Thanks for looking out for me, Joan, but I’m fine. Really.”

Joan only nods, worry still evident in their eyes, and walks back to their cubicle. Thomas faces his computer once more, certain of what he has to do.

\---

Thomas avoids the Imagination. He ignores Virgil and Logan’s texts, letting the notifications build up until he mutes them both. He changes the route he takes to work so he now drives as far away from the mansion as possible, forcing himself to wake up earlier as to still get to the office building on time. 

Joan doesn’t bring up the rumors again, but Thomas has noticed them being more relaxed while at work. 

Thomas, on the other hand, feels like shit.

It’s more than the lack of sex, although that doesn’t feel good, either.

Thomas feels as though a part of him has been ripped away. Although he’s only known Logan and Virgil for a month or so, they’ve become such a big part of his life that he can’t imagine going from day to day without them.

Thomas realizes in his time apart from the pair that they make him happier than he’s ever been.

He also realizes that, yes, he loves them. He tries not to, but it’s so difficult to stop missing their soft kisses, rough touches, warm bodies, grounding voices. He tries to stop loving them. He tries to stay away.

He tries, but all too soon, he fails.

After only two weeks of forced isolation, Thomas takes a sick day off work. His superiors believe him - why wouldn’t they? - and he heads towards the Imagination as soon as he is sure that the last of his coworkers are at the office and unable to see him on his way.

As he knocks and waits for Roman to open the front door, Thomas is hit with a sudden panic. 

What if they don’t want to see him? What if they hate him? What if they told Roman and Remus and he won’t ever be able to come back? What if he hurt them?

Thomas is so wrapped up in his thoughts that he doesn’t see a stranger - a blonde, blue-eyed man - open the door, his soft expression quickly falling into one of worry. He doesn’t hear the melodious voice asking if he’s alright. Thomas can only see the darkness, can only hear the rushing of pressure in his ears and the quickness of his breath.

Then, on the doorstep of the Imagination, he faints.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh stinky
> 
> Ok so I forgot what shit was going down this chapter. Turns out the Big Shit isn't until chapter nine, so y'all have got a while ;)
> 
> Also, I figured out how many chapters this will be!! I have a specific plan now instead of a vague idea.
> 
> Leave feedback, cowards, and I LOVE YOU!!! <3


	6. Patton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas wakes up in a strange bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NSFW, cursing, hand jobs, dom/sub, daddy kink, safeword mention, migraine mention, panic attack mention, minor regret, minor embarrassment, nausea
> 
> EDIT: For those of you that can’t/don’t want to read daddy kink stuff, I posted a different version of this chapter without it. It’s the same, just without the name stuff. Here’s the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22863913
> 
> Thank you for reading! I love you all!! <3

Thomas wakes up to pressure behind his eyes and nausea curling in his gut. He slowly blinks his eyes open, the darkness of the room helping to soothe his headache somewhat. As his eyes adjust, Thomas realizes that he doesn’t recognize where he is. He sits up with a start but collapses back down with a pained groan as the pain in his skull sharpens.

“Hey there, kiddo, don’t sit up yet, ok?” A soft, somewhat familiar voice drifts across the room as a figure steps closer. Thomas swallows his pain and fear and tries his best to speak around the dryness of his mouth.

“Who are you? Where am I?”

The figure stops walking and leans down a little towards Thomas. He can make out a tanned face with soft features, round glasses resting on rosy cheeks, and a halo of blonde curls. The man gestures towards himself. “My name is Patton.” He then gestures to the room, and Thomas notices that he keeps his voice low. “This is the Imagination. You fainted on the doorstep. Don’t you remember?”

“I-I….” He does remember. He had started panicking and then...nothing. Patton...that name sounds familiar. Thomas vaguely remembers a nickname mentioned a few weeks back. “Patton...Pat?”

Patton nods, a small grin brightening his face and soothing the remaining fear in Thomas’ chest. “Yep! That’s me. And you’re Thomas, right?”

Thomas starts to nod but stops when the pain spikes again. He winces and coughs out a weak affirmative.

“Logan and Virgil and the twins told me all about you, kiddo! Honestly, I’ve wanted to meet you for a while.” Patton giggles, and Thomas’ heart swells with the beauty of the sound. “Here, I got you some water.” Patton holds a water bottle up and Thomas takes it gratefully. When he finishes drinking, Patton offers to help him sit up and Thomas relents. “That was a pretty nasty panic attack, huh?” Panic attack….

Thomas cringes as memory of what led him here resurfaces. “I’m...I’m sorry, Patton, I shouldn’t be here, I-”

Patton holds up a hand, his worry evident in the wrinkles around his eyes. “I don’t know what happened between you and my boys, but they miss you.” The playful tone in his voice is gone, replaced with an almost paternal disappointment. “You make them happy, Thomas. It can be difficult for them to open up - for separate, private reasons - but you broke their walls down so darn fast.” The disappointment fades, and what could be hope or pity softens his features once more. “Don’t take that for granted. At least talk to them, ok?”

Thomas nods before he can fully process what Patton has said. The man smiles, bright and soft, and Thomas’ chest warms at the sight. Patton has a soothing presence and Thomas, for whatever reason, knows that he’s safe here. There’s no judgment, no anger, just acceptance and patience.

The contented, comfortable feeling is akin to the one he feels in Virgil or Logan’s rooms, wrapped up in one or both of their arms. The feeling shocks the rest of the panic out of Thomas’ system and allows him to fully look at Patton for the first time.

His sky blue polo hangs comfortably over his slightly pudgy frame and a grey cardigan wraps around his broad shoulders. The cuffs of his khaki pants are rolled up, his feet clad in fuzzy socks with puppies on them. Thomas smiles at that, then focuses on swallowing his blush as Patton giggles.

“You really are gorgeous when you smile.” Patton’s voice grows just a touch deeper, bringing more heat to Thomas’ face. “Virgil and Logan went on and on about it, but I didn’t really believe them. Now, though,” Patton slowly lifts a large hand to cup Thomas’ cheek, the softness of his skin raising goosebumps on Thomas’ arms as he shivers. Patton giggles again, the sound somehow sly while remaining mostly innocent. “Now I see how right they were.” Patton drops his hand and Thomas almost whines at the loss of touch. He tries not to think about how that small gesture was the most intimate physical contact he’s had with anyone in weeks. 

“I, uh...thank you.” Thomas’ voice is weak. “I’ll talk to them. Are they here?”

Patton shakes his head. “Nah, Virgil’s on shift at the cafe and Logan’s at a lecture.” Patton makes a face at the word ‘lecture,’ but Thomas is too distracted to notice.

He remembers the astronomy classes that Logan had been so excited about attending. He also remembers the starting date of the class being the week prior, and his heart drops when he realizes he missed such a big part of his friend’s life. Patton notices the drop in Thomas’ mood and lifts his hand to his shoulder this time. Thomas leans eagerly into the touch, too desperate for comfort to worry about shame anymore.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up, kiddo. You had your own demons to take care of. They understand! Just make it up to them, stay until they come back. You could hang out with me while we wait!” Patton’s grin is so soft and genuine that it coaxes a smile out of Thomas. 

Would it be that bad to spend time with Patton? He seems nice enough, and Thomas has been curious as to who else is employed by the Prince twins. 

“Sure. What do you want to do?”

The blush on Patton’s cheeks darkens a little and he drops his hand from Thomas’ shoulder. “Well, I have an idea.” Patton’s baby blue eyes sparkle with something less-than-innocent. “But first, how are you feeling?”

Thomas ignores the flutters of heat in his chest. “A lot better, thank you. How did you know how to help me?”

Patton shrugs. “Oh! Don’t worry about it, kiddo! Some of us get panic attacks, some of us get migraines. When you live with these kiddos for as long as I have, you pick up on some things.” He giggles, but there’s a bit of a sad sound to it as if Patton isn’t being entirely truthful. Thomas decides to let it be for now. “My room is the farthest from the living room, so it’s also the quietest. I didn’t want to wake you up before you were ready.”

Thomas nods. “Really, thank you, Patton. You don’t even know me and you’ve already helped me so much.”

Patton’s blush darkens to a deep scarlet and he looks away. “Aw shucks. Don’t mention it. I feel like I know you already from all Virgil and Logan have said about you.” He glances up at Thomas through his lashes, eyes wide and soft behind circular glasses. 

Thomas’ breath catches in his chest at the look. “O-oh? What have they said?”

Patton bites down on his lip a little, feigning shyness, and Thomas can feel his cock twitching with faint interest. 

“Oh, nothing much, just that…” Patton’s gaze turns a little dark. “You know how to take orders and look beautiful while doing it.”

Oh.

Fuck.

Thomas’ pulse quickens, his face warming. He swallows. “That’s certainly, uh, kind of them to say.”

Patton giggles, the sound strikingly innocent for such a suddenly domineering figure. “Well, are they wrong?”

Thomas slowly shakes his head. He knows where Patton is going with this, and he can’t say he’s against it. This isn’t where he thought today would go but if he’s being honest, sex with Patton doesn’t sound so bad. 

Patton smirks, eyes glinting with the same danger that Thomas remembers seeing in Virgil’s eyes. “Good. Do you know your colors, baby boy?” Oh, fuck, that pet name does something to Thomas. He nods, his words completely gone for the moment. “Good boy. Do you mind calling me Daddy?”

Oh. That’s new. Thomas considers it. It’s less about the word and more about the act of having a title, he decides. And if being called ‘Daddy’ is hotter for Patton than being a ‘Master’ or ‘Sir,’ then Thomas can oblige.

“Sure, Daddy.” 

The sheer joy on Patton’s face brings a smile to Thomas’ own, heat pooling heavier in his crotch. Patton takes one of Thomas’ hands in his own and kisses his knuckles, still smiling. “Good boy, Thomas. You’re Daddy’s good boy now.”

Thomas nods, suddenly overcome with the intense desire to remain Patton’s good boy, whatever that means for the future. “Yes, Daddy.”

Patton hums, kissing Thomas’ palm. “Good boy. Remember, we don’t have to do anything today if you don’t want.”

Thomas nods again. “I know. I want to. Please?” Thomas can’t keep the breathiness from his voice and is glad he didn’t try to when Patton’s eyes widen in glee.

“Please what, baby boy? Use your words.”

“Please…” Please what, indeed. Thomas looks Patton over once more, eyes tracing down soft curves and plump lips and large hands and he suddenly realises that he needs those hands inside of him now. “Please touch me, Daddy, I want to feel you.”

Patton nods, grinning. “Sounds good, baby boy. Just relax and let Daddy take care of you, ok?” Patton doesn’t wait for a response. He slips his hands underneath Thomas’ thighs and manhandles him until he’s laying down again, soft brown hair spread in a halo on Patton’s baby blue pillows. Thick fingers hook over the waistband of Thomas’ pants and tug down until his jeans are on the floor and Patton’s leaning above him and oh fuck he’s so pretty like this and then soft lips are on his and Thomas melts into a puddle, his hands coming up to flatten on Patton’s thick chest. 

The kiss is soft but deep, their lips fitting comfortably as they move together. Patton doesn’t rush, trailing his knuckles over Thomas’ sides slowly as he explores his body. He brings his hands down to grip Thomas’ thighs and begins to massage his fingers into the soft flesh, drawing low moans from the man beneath him. 

Thomas’ body is alight with heat, but it’s a heat unlike the kind he’s experienced before. This is slow, achingly slow, and soft. Less hot and more warm. Patton takes his time worshipping Thomas’ thighs and only changes his movements when the low moans become slightly breathy whines. Patton pulls back from the kiss, biting down lightly on Thomas’ bottom lip and dragging it a little with him.

“Da-Daddy please, please touch me.” Thomas doesn’t think to speak, to beg. The words just spill from his kiss-bruised lips, followed by gasping breaths of arousal mixed with embarrassment. 

Patton, also breathing hard, only smiles without stopping his relentless massaging of Thomas’ inner thighs. “Touch you where, baby boy? Use your words, baby.”

Thomas whines, shame dissipating without acknowledgement. “My cock, Daddy. Please? Please-” Thomas’ begging is cut off by a loud moan when one of Patton’s hands slips up to palm Thomas’ aching cock through his boxers. The rough slide of fabric against his sensitive skin is too much and not enough and his back arches with the force of it.

“Is that good, baby boy?” Patton’s voice is husky but bright. He’s enjoying this immensely.

Thomas shakes his head. “N-not enough, Daddy. Want your hands on me, please.”

“But baby boy,” Patton cooes, “My hands are on you.”

“Daddy!” Thomas puts all of his frustration into the word. “Please, I can’t...I can’t…”

Luckily, Patton takes mercy on him. He chuckles, the low sound making Thomas’ hair stand on end. “Alright, baby boy, I won’t tease you anymore today. I want you to have fun, after all.” He tugs off Thomas’ boxers, which earns him a grateful whine.

“Thank you, Daddy, thank you.”

Thomas doesn’t know when his eyes closed, but he’s opening them when Patton takes a moment too long to touch him again. He gasps at the sight of Patton dribbling lube onto his fingers - he isn’t sure where the bottle came from or how he didn’t hear it uncapped, but he isn’t in the right headspace to ponder such things - and watching Thomas with a soft grin. It’s only a second before Patton’s hand is again on Thomas’ cock, his large fingers now wrapping around his length and squeezing and pulling on all the right places. Patton’s other hand - also wet with lube - is positioned between Thomas’ ass cheeks.

High, breathy whines of ‘yes’ and ‘Daddy’ and ‘thank you’ punctuate each twist of Patton’s hand. Just as he presses the pad of his thumb against Thomas’ slit, his other thumb slips inside of his hole. Thomas moans louder, back arching off the bed at the heat and the stretch and the slow softness with which Patton is wrecking him.

This sex is different than with either of the others.

Logan is exact, almost clinical with how quickly he can take Thomas apart and leave him a gasping, floundering mess. Virgil is rough and hard and hot, pounding Thomas into a haze of orgasms and slight soreness that only makes him harder later. This is something else. 

It’s slow. Thomas can feel the pleasure building inside of him, warmth lighting his nerves with baby blue fire. He drifts, enveloping himself in the plush haze of Patton.

More fingers are added, stretching Thomas wider and wider until he feels he might burst. Patton’s fingers massage at Thomas’ prostate, mirroring how he had worshipped his thighs. Thomas bucks his hips into Patton’s hand, and Patton lets him. Only two more thrusts and Thomas is begging to cum.

“Please, please, let me cum, Daddy! Please-”

“You can cum, baby boy. Let me hear you.”

Then Thomas is cumming over Patton’s hand, the intensity of his orgasm whiting out his vision and forcing his head back as he screams. 

He comes down as slowly as he had been built up. When Thomas fully comes to again, Patton is cleaning him with a warm cloth, a tiny smile lifting his red lips. Thomas notices the blush on his plump cheeks and can’t help but smile, too.

“Thanks, Pat. That was...amazing.”

Patton looks up from where he’s wiping Thomas down, joy widening his eyes. “Oh? I...thank you, Thomas.” His grin grows. “I really enjoyed that.”

Thomas relaxes back into the pillows, warmth overtaking him again. Only, this heat isn’t sexual in nature. It’s something else, something that Thomas is learning he needs to keep close and never let go. Never again.

“Me, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW. Thomas is really a bottom, huh?
> 
> This is probably my longest chapter so far. Oopsie. (EDIT: It's not, chapter 2 is 332 words longer lmao)
> 
> (Another edit: WOW that pacing was weird lmao you can tell I wrote this two separate days with wildly different mindsets sorry about that y'all)
> 
> Next chapter will have a lot of plot stuff in it - not necessarily angst, just some important conversations that can't happen offscreen - so beware lmao.
> 
> Also, this fic got a LOT of attention really fast so welcome and thank you to everyone who has left kudos and comments!! I love you all so much!! <3
> 
> As always, leave feedback cowards! Again, I LOVE YOU GUYS!


	7. Conversations and Office Parties

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas - finally - has a conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: panic attack mention, depression mention, migraine mention, nausea, cursing, alcohol
> 
> I promise it's not as angsty as it sounds.

By mid-afternoon, Thomas and Patton have gotten to know each other...intimately. They’re cuddling - still on Patton’s bed and just recently dressed - when a knock interrupts their giggles.

“Come in!” Patton chirps.

The door opens, revealing a tired-looking Logan dressed in his usual, formal attire. Thomas immediately stiffens, but warms when Logan’s stoic face brightens as he enters the room and sees Thomas. It’s obvious Logan is holding himself back from rushing towards the bed, the taller man practically vibrating in the doorway. Thomas sits up - Patton’s arms falling to the bed behind him - and grins apologetically.

“Hey, Lo.”

Then Thomas is lifted by strong arms and held tight to a familiar chest. He buries his face in Logan’s collar, his arms coming around his waist. This close to him, Thomas can feel Logan’s heart beating almost dangerously fast. He pulls back and looks up at Logan with concern.

“Lo?”

Logan’s eyes are wide with shock and relief and just a little bit of sadness. He studies Thomas carefully as if he’s afraid he’ll leave again. “Thomas. You’re back. And with Patton, no less.” He quirks an eyebrow and Thomas has to hold back a laugh at the return of his always-inquisitive Logan. (His Logan? Since when had he become his Logan? Never. They don’t belong to each other. They aren’t together. They aren’t. No matter how much Thomas wishes they are.)

“Yea. I, uh, I might have fainted.” Thomas laughs as casually as he can given the situation. Logan, concerned, glances at Patton, who just shrugs.

“I’m not getting in your business, kiddos. This is between y’all and Virgil.”

Logan nods, turning back to Thomas. “Are you alright?”

Thomas looks away, hiding a blush. Heat warms in his chest, the same heat he had been feeling for hours with Patton. Soft, comforting. It’s addictive. “Yea! I’m fine. Patton helped a lot.” Thomas’ blush deepens at the incredulous look from Logan paired with the sheepish giggle from Patton behind him. “When will Virgil get here?”

Something thuds to the ground in the hallway and all three heads turn to see Virgil staring into Patton’s room. “Thomas?”

Thomas can hardly get out an affirmative before a second pair of arms are wrapped around him and he’s pulled into yet another familiar chest. Keeping one arm around Logan, he circles the other around Virgil’s waist and pulls them all together. Thomas feels like he’s floating, the heavenly familiar scents of coffee and paper mixed with a new, faint tinge of vanilla filling his lungs and the soft touches of the men around him coating his skin with warm tingles. He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Virgil’s hoodie is wet around his eyes and the others are pulling back from the hug.

Immediately, the others - including Patton, Thomas notices - are asking if he’s alright, what’s wrong, did they hug him too much? Thomas lets go of Logan so he can wipe his eyes, barely registering that he’s laughing.

“I missed you guys so much.”

Patton coos, delighted, and Thomas notes with no small amount of satisfaction that both Virgil and Logan are blushing, eyes wide.

Logan speaks first, voice strained. “You...we missed you as well, Thomas, but we must ask. Why did you leave in the first place?”

Thomas flounders, his mouth opens and closes but no words come out. He glances from Virgil to Logan and back again. “I…” He sighs, burying his face in Virgil’s chest again. “I was a coward.” The words are muffled by Virgil’s hoodie. He takes several deep breaths, memorizing the feeling of the arms around him, holding him, protecting him. “I could lose my job if I keep coming here.” Thomas feels both men stiffen, so he continues, his words rushed and strained. “I need to eat and pay rent and I like my job, but I like you two more. I like Patton, too, and the twins even though they’re kinda intimidating. I don’t want to stop seeing you. God, I would hate that. I missed you two so fucking much. I don’t know what to do.”

The silence stretches just long enough to become uncomfortable. Thomas hesitantly pulls back to look up at Virgil, who’s staring at the others. The three of them seem to have a silent conversation. Thomas just watches the muscles twitch in Logan’s jaw, the space between Patton’s eyebrows furrow, the corners of Virgil’s eyes narrow. Finally, they all nod and look back to Thomas.

“That was freaky.” Thomas laughs shakily. “What, do you guys have telepathy or something?”

This brings smiles to the others’ faces. Patton giggles and shakes his head. “Nah, that would be cool, though.”

Logan hums absently, eyes slightly unfocused. “We do not have to meet here.”

Thomas gapes up at him. “What?”

Logan’s eyes focus again, his expression mildly amused. “Thomas, would you like to accompany Virgil and I on a romantic outing?”

“I-I…” He would. He wants to more than anything else he’s ever wanted before. Which is why he’s absolutely terrified of saying yes. 

Virgil clears his throat. “You, uh,” His nerves are evident in the shakiness of his gravelly voice, “You don’t have to go with both of us. Or either of us.”

Patton speaks up, bright but soft. “I would also like to join, if y’all don’t mind.” Logan, Virgil, and Thomas all turn to Patton, surprised. Patton blushes under the scrutiny. “You can’t expect me to not fall in love with him! He’s cute and funny and everything y’all said he would be!” Thomas blushes a deep scarlet, eyes widening even more.

“But-you guys, are you…?”

Logan sighs. “Did we forget to mention that we are all - the twins and Dee included - in a polyamorous relationship? I apologize for emitting such a crucial detail.”

Thomas almost faints again. Him and Virgil and Logan and Patton, together? And then, in the background, the others and the twins plus this mysterious Dee? Thomas finds himself nodding before he knows his own decision. 

“Yes! Yes, I’ll go out with you, Logan.” Logan’s face turns a dark crimson, eyes widening behind his glasses. “And you, Virgil.” Virgil stiffens, his arms tightening around Thomas’ waist. “And you, Patton.” Patton giggles, light and airy. Thomas grins, eyes wet with cool tears of joy as he looks at each of his new boyfriends. Boyfriends.

A third pair of arms wraps around him from behind. Thomas glances over his shoulder to see Patton, grinning, press a kiss to the top of his arm. Heat warms Thomas’ cheeks and he laughs, pulling the other two closer. The four of them huddle together, smiling and blushing and happy and warm.

\---

The next four months pass all too quickly for Thomas.

Movie dates and dinner reservations and late-night walks in the park. He doesn’t go back to the Imagination. Instead, the four of them meet at Thomas’ house or their date locations. He’s ok with that if it means he can see them and keep his job.

Night after night, Thomas falls asleep with their breaths stirring his hair and wakes up in their arms the next morning with whispers of their names on his lips. 

He learns things about them, too.  
He learns that Patton loves to help, whether that means taking care of a sick boyfriend or cleaning up Thomas’ apartment for him after a long work day. He also bakes constantly. Every time he visits, Patton brings a tupperware container of something-or-other for Thomas to nibble on until he returns with something else. He also loves cuddles. Thomas can’t count the amount of times he’s suddenly obtained a lapful of blue cotton and blonde curls.

He learns that Logan is infinitely, dangerously curious. He always wants to try something new whether that thing is food or a new class at the local college or something in the bedroom. Thomas is always ready to experiment with him. He looks forward to the brightness in Logan’s eyes when he learns a new fact, finds a new favorite food, orgasms much quicker or harder than normal. He learns that Logan wakes up earlier than the others despite falling asleep much later than all but Virgil. He drinks an unhealthy amount of coffee, which isn’t helped by Virgil’s job. Logan is less touchy-feely than Patton, but his small touches and forehead-kisses never fail to make Thomas sputter and blush.

He learns that Virgil is surprisingly sweet despite his grouchy demeanor. On the mornings that Virgil stays the night, Thomas can look forward to long arms wrapped around his waist from behind and a face buried in his neck while he makes breakfast. Virgil somehow knows when Thomas has a bad day, awaiting his arrival at the apartment with chocolate and weighted blankets and tea. 

He learns that sometimes, Patton has bad days. He’ll wake up before the others and just lay there, silently staring at the wall. These episodes only last for up to a day, and Patton is always perky and bright after it’s over, but that doesn’t make it any less frightening to wake up and see one of his loves cold and unresponsive.

He learns that Logan has migraines. He’ll lay down in a dark room for hours, a bucket beside him and noise-cancelling headphones over his ears. Patton takes care of him during those times. Both Virgil and Thomas are too frightened they’ll hurt their boyfriend through ignorance.

He learns that Virgil has panic attacks. They come with very little warning and can range from mild shakiness to full hysteria. After two months, Thomas is able to recognize the signs and can anticipate when they might come. He’s still wrong, of course. But it’s better than being taken by surprise.

Thomas learns fear. The fear of losing them again, of not being able to help them.

But they teach him.

They teach Thomas how to love them, and in turn, Thomas teaches them how to love him.

He teaches them that he also gets panic attacks. Much more rare than Virgil, but still there.

He teaches them that he has insecurities. That he doubts himself and fears for the day that he’ll make a mistake too big to come back from it.

He teaches them how to deal with his occasional night terrors, his messy habits, his intense procrastination, his dramatics.

They teach and they learn together.

They say their first ‘I love you’s. They cry and laugh and cuddle and fuck and they live.

Something is missing, though. They all feel it. None say it, but it’s there.

Some emptiness.

But despite this, they love each other.

And all is good.

For four months, that is.

\---

Thomas is at an office party celebrating some milestone in sales. Employees were encouraged to bring a plus one to the restaurant where the party is held, but all of his boyfriends are...busy. Thomas swallows the lump in his throat at the thought of his boyfriends working right now. His discomfort isn’t caused by jealousy or disgust, but desire. Desire to see and hold his loves and tell them how much they mean to him. Which, admittedly, he does constantly, but that’s not the point.

The point is-

“Thomas!” Joan’s voice interrupts his thoughts. Thomas’ lips lift in a smile as his friend approaches. “Did you see the boss’ plus one?” Their eyes glint with thinly veiled curiosity. Joan isn’t usually one to gossip, so this must be interesting.

Thomas frowns, shaking his head. “No, but isn’t he married?”

Joan’s eyebrows furrow. “No, he got divorced several months ago. Something about the guy moving across the country. Anyway, like I was saying, his plus one is-”

“Ah, Thomas! Joan! So nice to see you both.” Speak of the devil. A short, slightly plump and gently balding man with beady black eyes studies the pair. “Joan, congratulations on reaching this groundbreaking milestone.” They nod in thanks as the boss turns to Thomas. “And Thomas,” He winks, the gesture coiling nausea deep in Thomas’ gut. “It’s good to have you back. I was afraid we nearly lost you there.” The boss chuckles, and Thomas finds himself laughing to keep up appearances.

Although it makes him even more sick, Thomas shrugs. “Well, it’s good to be back.” He knows what they’re speaking of even if neither will say it directly. To the others at his job, Thomas hasn’t interacted with the Imagination for months. True, he hasn’t - not directly - but the men inside are another matter.

His boss begins to continue the conversation when another man sidles up next to him, drinks in hand. Thomas forgotten for the moment, his boss’ expression brightens as he takes one of the drinks and gestures towards the man. “Perfect timing. Thomas, Joan, I would like you to meet my plus one for this evening.”

Thomas glances at the man and almost melts at the sight. 

He’s tall and thin, his black suit and yellow button-up fitted perfectly to his body. He’s all graceful angles and sharp features. His skin is smooth and dark, the warm tone to his complexion only brightened by the pale hints of eyeshadow around his eyes, his mismatched eyes. The right eye is a deep, silky brown while the other is a shrewd grey. Thomas can’t help but be reminded of his Virgil with those eyes, then his Logan when the man’s calculating expression is turned on him. He feels as though he’s being taken apart once again, the feeling not altogether unpleasant. The man’s long, black hair is tied back in many braids, several of them secured with gold bands. His thin lips pull up in a smirk as he studies Thomas so, so closely. 

“Good evening to you both. You may call me Dee.”

Dee. Of course. Only a man of the Imagination could be this beautiful, this smooth and sure in his movements. And, oh, his voice.

Deep and slow and sensual. Even just that small greeting sends chills down Thomas’ spine.

Joan holds out their hand for Dee to shake, offering a returning greeting that Thomas is unable to hear due to the cotton stuffing his ears. Next, it’s his turn to shake Dee’s hand and he forces himself to remain calm, neutral, even as his blood boils and his face is surely bright scarlet.

Their hands clasp and Thomas swallows. Dee’s skin is colder than he would have expected, but just as smooth as he had imagined. Something sparks in Dee’s mismatched eyes and Thomas flounders for a moment before mumbling something about it being ‘a pleasure’ to meet him. A pleasure, indeed.

Then, their hands drop and his boss is saying something and Thomas is nodding and watching Dee walk away with his boss’ bloated, splotchy hand splayed on his waist. The sight brings Thomas’ nausea back full force.

His boss, the one who has fired employees for so much as stepping foot inside of the Imagination, hired one of them as an escort? And if the familiarity with which his boss introduces Dee to others is anything to go by, this is not the first time.

Rage builds inside of Thomas’ chest until he is sure he’s going to scream. He looks at Joan - who’s been talking this whole time about something or other - and interrupts them.

“I’m getting a drink.”

Joan’s tirade stumbles and ends with a small frown on their face. “Oh. Alright.” They narrow their eyes. “Hey, are you feeling ok?”

Thomas nods, already walking towards the bar. “Just peachy.”

\---

Thomas throws back another shot of something and winces when the liquid hits his alcohol-sore throat. He waves his hand for another, not noticing the grimace on the bartender’s face as he’s distracted by another man slipping onto the stool next to him.

“Could you make that next shot into a bottle of water, please? I think he has had enough for tonight.” The bartender nods, eyes dancing with laughter as Thomas scoffs and turns to see who has shot-blocked him. His heart stops in his chest.

Dee gazes down at him with an amused smirk, one perfect eyebrow poised and sharp. His face is so, so close. So close that Thomas can see every fleck of color inside of those mismatched eyes. Studying Dee’s face, it takes Thomas a moment to realize that he’s speaking.

“Sorry, what?”

Dee chuckles and Thomas curses his body repeatedly for the reaction that sound brings. “I was just saying that you seem familiar. Not that we have ever met, of course, but the name ‘Thomas Sanders’ surely rings a bell.” His expression is inviting but dastardly, a mix that brings a pleasant flush to Thomas’ skin. “You wouldn’t happen to know my...associates by any chance?”

“I-I, uh…” Is this a test? His boss checking to make sure that Thomas stayed true to his word? If it is, then Thomas is prepared to suffer the consequences. He feels that lying to Dee would be a very bad decision. “Yes, I do.”

Dee nods, his smile more genuine. “Good. I was hoping to be able to meet you eventually. The others speak so highly of you and your…” Dee looks Thomas over lazily, “talents.” Thomas swallows, eyes wide. Dee continues. “I apologize for the nature of our meeting, but perhaps we could make a night of it, no?” His smirk grows, showing the tips of sharp canines, and Thomas thinks his heart might burst out of his chest.

“But, my boss-”

“Is a bastard who doesn’t know the meaning of the word ‘hypocrisy.’” Dee’s expression tightens for the barest second before it’s back to its lazy smirk. “I’m much more interested in you, my dear.”

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

Not again.

“Me?” Thomas squeaks, then clears his throat. “I mean, me? Why me?”

Dee seems to soften. He rests a hand on Thomas’ forearm and gazes down at him with a gentleness that reminds him suddenly and strongly of Patton. “My loves love you, Thomas. I can’t help but be curious as to whether I might love you as well.”

Oh.

Thomas suddenly has the incredibly strong urge to throw his arms around Dee and hold him close, to feel those sharp teeth and silver tongue on his neck, his chest, his thighs. He swallows and nods. “Yea. Yea, ok. Let’s get out of here.”

Dee smirks again, but there’s more joy in it this time. Relief, even. The hand on Thomas’ forearm tightens just slightly as he purrs, “Your place or mine?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enter: the snake.
> 
> I've had this chapter planned for so long and I'm so excited to share it with you guys!! Leave feedback, cowards! Love you all <3
> 
> ALSO: I have a Discord server now! I have no clue how to embed links in AO3 so here it is: https://discord.gg/zc3Kne6   
> I hope that works lol. Again, love you all!!


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